Last Call
by 7567Snakebite
Summary: One shot on Sherlock's death. The main character, Li has lived with John and Sherlock for a while now (let me know if you want me to write a story on the days before his death) and has fallen in love with Sherlock.


I picked up my cell phone, "Hello?"

"Li?"

"Sherlock? What's up?"

"I'm connecting John to this also…"

There was a click, and then John's voice, "Hello?"

"Hello," I said

"Li?" John asked.

"And Sherlock," I said.

"Is something wrong?" John asked.

"I need you both to come to the center of town… ASAP." Sherlock said.

"Can you tell us what's going on?" I asked.

"Just come," he said, his voice sounding ever so slightly desperate.

"All right, Sherlock. I'm getting in taxi now, 'kay?" I said as I waved over one.

"As am I," John said.

I opened the door and slid in the backseat. I looked to my left to find John. We gave each other looks of realization, and smiles. I covered the receiver of my phone.

"Center of town," I told the driver. "As fast as possible, please."

"Alright, miss. You and the man both ?" The driver looked at me through the mirror.

I nodded. "Yes, thank you."

He nodded back and started driving.

I sat back and quickly got out my pad of paper and pencil. I set down my phone and wrote, "Keep him talking, but don't use his name."

I turned the paper so John could see it.

He read it, then nodded. "So, where are you?"

I picked up my phone.

"Don't worry you'll see me," Sherlock said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, my eyebrows drawing together.

"You'll know …" Sherlock trailed off.

Just then, the taxi pulled in.

"Here you are," the driver said .

I covered the receiver, quickly stuffed the paper and pencil in my bag, thanked the driver , and gave him the money. Then, John and I got out, and the taxi drove away.

"Look up," came Sherlock's voice.

John and I looked up to find him on the edge of the building.

My hand flew to my mouth and I gasped.

"I… I can't come down, so we'll… We'll have to do it like this…" Sherlock's voice shook.

"What's going on?" John asked.

"An apology," Sherlock said. "I'm a fake."

"Sherlock." John said.

"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade… I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson, and Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you, that I created Moriarty, for my own purposes," Sherlock said.

"Okay, Sherlock, Sherlock, shut up," John said. "The first time we met. The first time we met. You knew all about my sister, right?"

"And you knew all about my dad, remember?" I added. "All about how I was only here to visit him because he was sick?"

"Nobody could be that clever," Sherlock said.

"You could," John and I both said.

Sherlock laughed. "I… I searched you both. On the Internet. Li, your name was in medical visitor lists. John, I found you some other places. I... I wanted to impress you."

"Sherlock…" I said.

John and I both moved towards the building.

Sherlock suddenly sounded furious. "No, say exactly where you are. Don't move." He was holding out a hand toward us as if trying to stop us.

John backed up, a hand raised in surrender.

However, I continued, starting to jog.

"Li!" Sherlock's voice was horrified.

"I'm not stopping, Sherlock, so you better explain what's going on." I said, my voice trembling a little, as I ran to the stairs.

"Li, stop. John, keep your eyes on me," he said, his voice so desperate, a cracked a little. "Please, will you do this for me?"

"Do what?" I heard John ask.

"This phone call, it's um… It's my note. It's what people do, don't they? … Leave a note…" Sherlock sounded tired, defeated.

"Sherlock, listen to me," I said, as I bounded up flights of stairs. "Don't hang up. Keep talking to us… Keep talking to me."

"Goodbye, John. Good… Goodbye, Li," he said.

"No! Sherlock! Talk to me! Don't you dare—" I was cut off by a click.

Terrified, I sprinted toward the stairs to the roof.

"Li, hurry, he's thrown his phone away," John said.

"He's going to jump!" I cried, my eyes wet.

"What?!" John yelled. I heard him call, "Sherlock!"

I burst out of the door and onto the roof. "Sherlock!" I screamed.

He was on the edge, arms spread, like he was about to fly.

"Don't!" I screeched, running toward him. "I love you!"

He fell forward.

"No!" I shrieked, my voice ten octaves higher than usual.

I finally reached the edge, grabbing the stone to stop myself from falling. My hand reached out for him...

Time seemed to slow down and my fingertips just barely brushed his hair. It was smooth... soft...

Time sped up again and he was gone.

I screamed. As he fell, his arms flailed in circles a little and his legs kicked some.

He hit the ground with a dull "thump."

I cried out, clutching my shirt right over where my heart should be. But it felt as if it had been torn out and run over by a semi-tractor-trailer, then backed up on.

I was hyperventilating by now, my breath coming out fast, irregular, and loud. Moans of grief and odd little cries came out with each breath. The series of noises had no pattern, just lamentation. Tears were freely streaming down my face.

Finally, I managed to think, _He... he can't be dead... Can't be gone... I was just... just talking to him... I... I..._

I stumbled, slowly down the stairs, it must've taken ten minutes. Once I was outside, I limped toward him. My eyes were wide, horrified. People tried to block me, but I pushed past.

I fell to my knees next to him. There is a pool of blood around his head. My mouth was still open a little and my eyes traumatized as I reached over and trailed my fingers down the side of his face.

His skin was smooth… already paling… already cold …

"Sherlock…" I whispered.

People were trying to pull me back, but I shook them off.

John appeared next to me. He reached for Sherlock's wrist. "I'm a doctor…" He said. "I'm his friend…" People were pulling him back too as he tried to take Sherlock's pulse.

After a second, he let's go oh Sherlock's wrist, his eyes wide, shocked.

There was no pulse.

I stared at John, dumbfounded.

The people around me finally managed to drag me away. They seemed to realize John and I knew each other, because they put me in his arms.

He held me, his arms limp. I had my forearms against his chest, to support myself.

"Sherlock…" I whispered again, my eyes not leaving his body 'til the paramedics took him away.

The bystanders formed a protective circle around Sherlock, not letting anyone close. The police would be coming soon, but for now, it was just John and me. He still held me. He buried his face in my hair. I turned to hug him, my arms wrapped around his neck.

"Why?" I murmured. "I… I… Sherlock …"

John's grip tightened slightly and I felt him start to shake. I held the crying man, my other best friend, and… And I began to cry too.

My cries were silent. Merely a shaking body and tears. I felt dead inside.

Then, there were bright lights, hands on our shoulders, voices… The police were here.


End file.
